I was pleased
and, frankly, a little surprised to discover that not all Stuckey’s have become Fuckeys. There are still gen-yoo-whyne Stuckeys all over the place, and you can find one here. Not like they were wonderful, they were the very definition of kitsch with cedar cigarrette boxes made in Lebanon and genuine Falsa blankets made in China. But the logs are… interesting.
I thought those were all gone years ago. When i was kid, you pretty much had to stop at one it you were taking a long trip accross the plains. The advent of the universal interchange block diagram pretty much ended them. (2 motels, 1 McD’s, 1 ruby/freindly/fridays, 2 gas stations, 1 mega gas station)
We used to have a lot of them in Ohio, and they were usually the only thing at that exit that led to East B.F., Population 178. Nowadays, the exit is still there, but since the Big Corporate Bean Counters are in Charge, all that’s there is a Flat Spot where a Trucker can pull over and get some sleep. Now we have to go another 20 miles to get to the Prof’s Universal Interchange.
Id almost rather see one torn out than turned into a porn shop.
There is one in Iowa that became the copper bottom resturant. But it closed as that as well.
The one on the baxter exit defintely became the all night kind of place. Oh wait, that was Nickerson Farms.
Age, really sucks getting old.
Stuckey’s . Dad didn’t stop all that often, other than for the bladder gladder relief needed on the summer vacation trips via the new interstate highways. But Stuckey’s was one place he would pull over for, at least once. The pecan logs were his particular siren, being his crew was not able to lash him to the mast, the car would find it’s way to the parking lot, and off we would go, “stretching our legs for a bit”, looking at the kitsch, while Dad went in search of “THE LOG” ™ .
Sorry to hear they have become almost an after thought on the highways of America. For good or ill, they did represent a part of our culture, and perhaps a bit of our psyche as well.
Though well Og starts talking about “logs” in his posts, one tends to get a bit apprehensive, especially when it is not in a wooded setting.
Hey, around here there is a porn/lingerie/head shop in a former country elementary school… twitch! I’d almost prefer one made from a Stuckey’s!
Another, in a pole barn along the highway (since burned down), was a “clothing store” in the documents submitted to the township — they were not amused when they figured out what it was — but the store always had a few dusty items of “normal” clothing on display.
Hmmm, next one South is a former gas stations abandoned when cross-traffic was stopped and the one beyond that was a plumbing supply house before it became a different kind of plumbing supply house!